Buoyside turns his face, still plastered in gunk, in the approximate direction of Vagus' voice. He misses the mark, but speaks anyway.
"Oh I have questions. Like should we enter any sort of business with a cretin who would deprive a brave and talented soldier, such as myself, a true and noble death? You fish for bloated bodies in the river, jam them back together and think you should be owed a favor for such disrespect? Have you served?"
"Aye, you could choose to see it that way, but you weren't in any condition to give your opinion on the matter when he found you. You could, having stated your desire not to return, slit your throat to spite him. You've had your warrior's death and nobody expects you to die so nobly twice. Although, personally, I'd prefer you stick around and defy those expectations."
Lofty gingerly lifts himself into a sitting position. "Mr Vagus has no doubt invested considerable time and effort in our resurrection. I am grateful, but I must admit Bouyside has stirred in me a glimmer of suspicion. Why us?" He mulls it over, his thoughts still dulled by sleep. "We are, I suspect, the only folks in the world who would believe that Saint Arden, the man who ended a hundred years of war and brought peace to the land, is a traitor. Likewise we are probably unique in our knowledge of Dehlia's involvement." Lofty turns his attention to their host. "You mean to sponsor our tour of vengeance? Foil your sister's plans? No, direct confrontation would fail." Lofty's expression brightens "Oh, I think I have it! We don't owe him anything, in fact, he has another gift to give. He knows something Bouyside, something that can help us succeed in an otherwise hopeless fight. Am I on the right track Vagus?"
Vagus' face is difficult to read but you detect a slight hint of surprise. "Very astute, Sergeant Lofty. Your suppositions are not entirely off the mark. Let me paint a picture for you all, then, yes? You should know that in the weeks - and it has been weeks - following the disastrous assault on Cionn tSáile, the Fourth Fifths army has collapsed. Its forces are scattered, demoralized, and broken, due in part to the apparent deaths of the Sixth and Seventh Saints. The fog remains confined to the city for the time being, but people fear that it may begin its inexorable spread once again any day now. Meanwhile, strange creatures continue to manifest throughout the continent, causing general terror and mayhem. A world so close to redemption, once again brought to the brink of ruin.
"Now, you obviously know the truth of what transpired during the assault. I might remind you, however, that your last encounter with the manifestation of my sister known as Dehlia and the man known as Arden mortally wounded or incapacitated three of you. Thus, even if you were able to convince anyone of Arden's duplicity, you still lack the strength necessary to impede him. Furthermore, his goals, while not entirely apparent to me, seem to pose a threat to one of your local, lesser gods. Pelor, is it? I can only speculate as to why this entity has drawn Arden's animosity, but I believe that he is searching for whatever Isidore found in the earth below Cionn tSáile in the hopes of using it to his advantage. Most ominously of all, Dehlia is actively working to obtain this object of power and is exploiting Arden's aspirations to her own ends.
"Dehlia cannot be allowed to obtain this object. As evinced by the fog, its very presence on your world has drawn the attention of some rather unique entities that can bring your people nothing but suffering. As such, this entity must be appropriately disposed of; I fear that I alone am capable of removing this force and the threat that it represents from your plane. The issue, however, lies in the fact that I am bound by certain...uh...rules that preclude me from acting in direct opposition to Dehlia. Were she to find discover my machinations, well...it would be suboptimal."
He smiles and extends his hands. "Which is where you all come in. Here you stand, health restored and lives preserved by the grace of my good will. I have several weapons and instruments of not inconsiderable power as well as precious information that you might use to undermine Arden and Dehlia's goals. All I ask in return is that you deliver the object out of Dehlia's grasp into my possession."
Vagus nods enthusiastically, leaning back onto the large table on which HELIOS resides. "A fair exchange, is it not? Weapons, information, and whatever limited aide that I can provide in return for that which Isidore found. I willingly share my leads and resources with you all in return for a contractual agreement that you will surrender Isidore's Folly onto me once you have secured it from the efforts of Arden and Dehlia. These seem like favorable terms, do they not?"
He reaches into his pocket and draws out an elegant quill, dripping with ink. In his left hand, he holds a piece of parchment covered in writing (though you might have sworn his hand was empty mere seconds ago).
"No." Lofty shakes his head. "I'll need to lay down a zone of truth and detect magic on that contract if you want to make this official." Calling Pelor a local lesser god set alarm bells off in Lofty's head. "What are you?"
Vagus' smile grows tighter. "I don't know that you have much in the way of bargaining -" his voice dripping with sarcasm "- friend. There are things at play that go far beyond some squabble with some minor sun god."
He pauses to inhale deeply through his nose, smoothing the ruffled surface of his tunic. As Vagus regains his composure, you realize how gray the world had become as the color comes flooding back. It seems that you had genuinely irritated him for a moment.
"Suffice it to say that I am, for the moment, an ally and your best chance at salvaging your sty of a world." He sighs. "If you feel so strongly, you may peruse the document at your leisure and scrutinize it with any magics that you feel appropriate. I will wait in the corner while you deliberate."
He walks over to the fire and stokes it absentmindedly. He then tends to a cauldron of some viscous substance that smells quite lovely - probably stew.
"You prevaricate. Allies need to trust one another, and we need to know what we're up against. You and your sister, what are you? Where are you from?" The smell of stew makes Lofty's stomach growl, and his eyes keep drifting back to the cauldron despite his best efforts to stay focused.
"I will not sign the contract of a man who insults the almighty Pelor. He is the savior of this land, Dehlia is nothing but an obstacle to be overcome in order to full fill the prophecy. Show respect to Pelor or you will get none from me." HELIOS turns his head and mimics spitting on the ground at the man's feet. No saliva is produced but he replicates the sound well enough.
HELIOS scans the room looking for something that can be played as an instrument. He does not like having idle hands when there is business that needs done
The usually quiet Xantlin, feeling tension in the room rise, attempts to calm the party down and get everyone on the same page. The disrespect of Perlor agitates him, but doesn't cloud his eyes from the greater situation and the potential to learn more.
"Vagus, we are all," Xantlin shoots a glare at Buoyside, "of course extremely grateful to you for bringing us back to health. Having seen what we've seen, I think we all wish to play a part in stopping it. Making you an ally may be our only way to accomplish this, so a deal of this nature seems apt. But you must understand our position, how shocked and horrified and confused we all are, it would be impossible for us to move forward having such a small amount of information, and knowing that it was all right in front of us in this room. I know you have more to tell us, please, we must know what we are up against and what the path forward may bring"
Buoyside looks back at Xantlin and puts on an obviously sarcastic and forced smile, his mouth is just visible enough to see him squeezing blood through his fractured teeth. "Yes, wonder boy, bringer...backer...of the dead. Tell us more." He stands with a loud groan and stands half hunched. "But know I don't need your magical weapons, I've got a blade that is..." He pauses as he does the math in his head. "...36 times the length of your pathetic cream chamber and a million times sharper than your mind. and I'd like somebody to put that blade in my hand, as I am unable to see at the moment."
Vagus roll his eyes. "'Allies need to trust one another' - hollow platitudes derived from the mercurial morals of mortals. Trust is not a necessary component of our alliance."
HELIOS' assertions seem to only further annoy him. "Empty threats from emptier vessels," he mutters under his voice.
Xantlin's plea, however, seems to resonate with Vagus. He frowns pensively, lost in thought. After what seems like an eternity, he clears his throat and begins to speak.
"This may be hard to hear, but you and your gods have lived a privileged, insular existence for a long time. The object that Isidore discovered was buried here long ago, long before any of your species walked on two legs or could bloviate emptily about your feeble accomplishments. When he attempted to draw from its power, however, Isidore inadvertently opened a door to the outer realms and extended an invitation to the deep, heavy things whose very names would shake the foundations of your sanity. In a sense, your gods, while great and powerful in your eyes, are merely small fish in a very, very small pond. Isidore had accidentally opened a channel, letting the whole, wide ocean pour in. And with the tide came much bigger, more heinous fish, drawn to the scent of blood."
He pauses. "This is not the first time. There are stories of an ancient elf king, his name lost to time, who discovered the same object long before the race of man ever visited this continent. He too attempted to draw on its power, but was much more cautious in his studies than the reckless Isidore. His actions drew the attention of a massive entity that, in its approach to your planet, collided with your moon before crashing into the ocean." He points to the sky. "This is why your moon is shattered and strewn throughout the sky. This is what poisoned your oceans and killed virtually all marine life. This is, ironically, what drove men to abandon their homelands three thousand years ago in search of a home not tainted by this monstrosity's effluence. So began the diaspora of man that first brought them to the shores of Súilleabháin."
Vagus turns to look at Xantlin. "The king realized his mistake quickly and returned the object to its latent state, but the damage was done. This world was forever changed. In a funny way, his actions spelled the end of the elven supremacy on the continent; with the arrival of mankind on Pater Perditas, elves were driven from their homes deep into the forests, their kingdoms ransacked and their legacy sundered. Now, the same thing has happened once again; Isidore, in his naivety, though to harness this object's powers and instead has brought peril to your entire existence."
He stops to stir the stew for a bit. He removes the ladle and blows on the steaming broth before sipping it. It smells of rosemary and basil. He adds a small crystalline powder to the cauldron and continues to stir.
"Dehlia, if that is what she has decided to call herself, is an infinitely small projection of a horrifyingly powerful entity called a 'moment,' of which there are three. She is something fundamental, primal. Entire galaxies are moved in the wake of her bow shock as she moves between realms. She is a god to the gods of your gods. I almost admire your asinine vows to 'destroy' her; you are nothing before her and stand no chance at even inconveniencing her." He stands to pace before you, gesticulating with the ladle as he speaks. Hungry eyes dart back and forth as he swings the spoon about.
"In spite of your utterly bleak prospects, if you were to help me to obtain this object I could remove it from this world. In doing so, I could close the channel and stem the tide of these...intercessory creatures that plague your world. Moreover, I would be able to draw off the attentions of Dehlia."
Vagus stops, his back to you.
"This is my proposal. Help me to obtain the object known as Isidore's Folly. Remand it to my safekeeping and preserve your existence. Refuse, and watch your world be torn to pieces by the void."
He turns to face you. "As to the Sixth Saint's role in this...well. I'm admittedly not certain. This is mere speculation, but I believe that he has already accessed the object's power, or nearly done so, and intends to use it to exact his revenge on Pelor. It seems to me that Dehlia cannot procure the object without his help and has, as such, entered into an arrangement with Arden such that she will aid him in his campaign of destruction with the understanding that he will return Isidore's Folly to her once his bloodlust has been sated."
Without warning, Vagus turns and throws the ladle violently at the wall, where it embeds itself firmly in the wood. Except that the ladle is now a knife, the contract pinned to the wall by its blade.
"Choose now," Vagus says, his voice gravelly and emotionless. "No more questions, no more stalling. Aid me and I will, in turn, aid you - with weapons and information. Fail to do so and watch everything you have made unravel."
Ryloos has been staring at the ground taking all that has been said in and filtering it through her foggy, concussed mind. One thing that catches her interest is the allure of more powerful weapons. Weapons to kill that awful *****, Dehlia. Ryloos has no particular love for the Pelor but has seen first hand his power embodied in the physical world. Learning there are beings far more powerful than Pelor, if Vagus speaks the truth, is a thought Ryloos can barely comprehend.
Ryloos eyes peer at Vagus as he brandishes the ladle dispersing his ideas. She does not trust this man, but she can't shake the the thought of cutting down Arden and his *****, Dehlia, with something stronger than her rapier and daggers.
"If we were to accept your offer, what is the exact nature of these weapons and how could they help us 'inconvenience' Dehlia as you so put it?"
Vagus sighs and slips back into the vulgar accent that he had adopted on first meeting you. "Goddamn, you lot are thick. What about 'no more questions' do you not understand?" He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation.
He walks to the large table and pulls out a drawer, which he rummages through, muttering all the while under his breath. After a few moments, he withdraws what appears to be a dagger with a very elegant, engraved scabbard.
"This," he starts, "is called Drift. Said to be forged in a capital city of the eastern lands." He unsheathes the weapon, revealing a lovely isosceles-shaped blade with elaborate gilded etchings carved into its blade. "When thrown, its bearer can appear wherever it should travel."
Once again. without a moment's notice, Vagus turns and throws the dagger directly at you. You flinch as the blade passes inches from your face; on reopening your eyes, Vagus is standing behind you, the dagger in hand, seemingly having teleported.
"Also makes a halfway decent weapon. Good for stabbing people in the back." He sheathes the dagger and places it in your hands. "Can only be used a couple of times each day though. Needs moonlight to recharge." He walks back over to the contract and stands, hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"what do you have to offer for those of us that do not rely on weapons? My power comes from Pelor himself, and while you disrespect his strength as a God you cannot deny the power he has." HELIOS speaks loudly igniting a ball of sunlight in each hand. He turns and throws both at the wall impacting on either side of the contract. "Show me what you have that can enhance the strength of Pelor, and apologize for speaking so brashly about him and I will sign the contract on the Sergeants command."
"If you're confused as to why this is all falling apart, allow me to clarify." Lofty totters to his feet and begins to shuffle about the cramped room looking for his things. "The worst debt a mortal can incur is gratitude. You never feel like it's paid in full. If you'd have simply fed us and told us what you know, you would have found us to be stalwart allies. Thankfully you've freed us from such obligations with your boorish attempts at bribing us into servitude. You denigrate our gods and belittle our values while insisting we hand you the fate of our world? You're twice as arrogant as Isidore ever was and if your little history lesson had one thing to teach, it's that arrogance leaves you blind to the unexpected. You didn't expect me to refuse you? I'm not surprised." With that, Lofty walks out.
You turn to leave, satisfied with the rectitude of your speech. You quickly realize, however, that you had never actually glimpsed an entrance or exit to the room. Your self-assurance quickly fades as you turn a full three hundred and sixty degrees, eyes finding nothing but seamless walls, ceiling, and flooring. Your gaze returns to Vagus.
His face is pure malice and his voice, barely more than a whisper, seethes with barely restrained rage and venom.
"You filth. You sanctimonious louse, drunk off your self-import. I curse you." The words have weight and your knees buckle as if struck by a physical blow. "I will poison the ear of every man, the leaves of every tree, the stones of every wall, the current of every stream against you. You will find no succor. You will find no reprieve. In your time of need, your plaintive cries will fall on empty eaves and closed thresholds. I CURSE YOU." His voice rises in volume. You feel a searing sensation on your forehead, one of blinding pain. Your party members cry out similarly and clutch at their faces as a strange mark burns itself into the flesh and/or metal of their foreheads. "NOW ALL WILL KNOW YOUR PERFIDY. NO CLOTH NOR ARMOR NOR SHADE CAN HIDE YOUR IGNOMINY. I. CURSE. YOU. NOW GO."
The final sentence is nearly shrieked, the pitch deafening. You can barely stand straight. The final words are the thundering winds of a hurricane, and you are blown physically to the ground. You are surprised to find yourselves tumbling down a set of stairs that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Your momentum carries down the steps and out a door that shuts abruptly behind you, sealing off the gale inside the house. Somewhat dazed but otherwise uninjured, you turn to face one another. On each of your foreheads has been burned the following mark.
After examining your brands, you turn to study your environs. You are standing in a small glade in the midst of a lush forest. The floor is carpeted with thick grass and soft moss, and warm sunlight falls in through a gap in the canopy. Nearby, a stream gurgles pleasantly, some placid offshoot of the mighty Ogma. A collection of brilliant blue flowers have bloomed along its path, and insects flit to and from their pollen-laden stamen. Not far off, a small gravel path leads off in between the trees, a series of stone cairns lining its flank and leading you to believe that it is manmade. You turn back to look at Vagus' majestic home only to find that it has vanished utterly. In its place, you find a skeletal structure that was once likely a water mill that was seemingly destroyed in a fire, its stone walls charred and collapsed.
In spite of your rather spiteful parting with Vagus, you cannot help but admire your beautiful surroundings.
RYLOOS
After picking at your painful forehead mark, you are startled by a realization. You quickly check your pockets, a smile coming to your face. You draw out the dagger known as Drift, its gilded scabbard glittering in the sunlight. It seems Vagus may not have taken everything from you. You surreptitiously return the blade to your satchel, shooting furtive glances at your party members.
You all are level six now - hooray! You are also all cursed - bummer.
Buoyside groans as he stands back up, absolutely bewildered. He's still hesitant to remove his face covering, just in case there is some healing element to preserve his handsome visage. He acquiesce's and clears out two spots around his eyes so he can once again see. The mask is now drooping slightly, it almost appears as if Buoyside is crudely wearing another man's bloated face as a mask.
"What the **** just happened?" He looks back at the destroyed home then back to Lofty for a moment before blurting out a laugh. "Captain, I often think you're just a stuck up nerd but god damn, you just offended that dude so hard he had to ******* MOVE." He bends over, slapping his knees. "'Gents, what a ******* knob! Did you figure out the math I did? I said his pecker was only 3 inches, brilliant! He couldn't even figure it out!"
You all may feel uneasy, as this is easily the friendliest this Buoyside has possibly ever been to any of you, you are bonded by a common enemy in the rude, pretentious Vagus. He bends down to pick up his sword before finally taking in the environment.
"Well where to? The cursed walk the earth once again!"
"Sorry boys, I got a bit carried away." Lofty begins looking through his pack and shoves half of a month old ration into his mouth. "He didn't want to help us, he wanted to help himself. Anyways-" Lofty straightens, taking on an air of command that came more naturally to him lately. "Bouyside, you've still got that grisly little trophy? Helios, can you speak with Pelor? Ask for guidance to the nearest church? We have a resurrection of our own to see to."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"I will see what I can do." HELIOS lowers himself to the ground and sits cross legged as if meditating. His entire body starts to give off a faint orangish glow as he focuses on the ki inside him and attempts to reach out to Pelor for guidance.
You open yourself to divine inspiration and feel the ethereal currents swirl about you as you feel Pelor's consciousness acknowledge your appeal. In your mind's eye, you leave your body, assuming a bird's eye view of your surroundings. Not far off, you see swirling light coalesce gently around an old, steepled wooden structure in the midst of a small town. You intrinsically know that there is a former temple to Pelor in the village nearby, now abandoned but still marked with residual light.
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Buoyside turns his face, still plastered in gunk, in the approximate direction of Vagus' voice. He misses the mark, but speaks anyway.
"Oh I have questions. Like should we enter any sort of business with a cretin who would deprive a brave and talented soldier, such as myself, a true and noble death? You fish for bloated bodies in the river, jam them back together and think you should be owed a favor for such disrespect? Have you served?"
A couple of his teeth are chipped, adding a slight whistle to each S sound Buoyside makes.
I'm just going to leave this stuff on Buoyside's face for a while.
Character Sheet
AC: 16
BUOYSIDE
Vagus seems to consider your questions thoughtfully for a moment. Smiling widely, he replies.
“Yes.”
"Aye, you could choose to see it that way, but you weren't in any condition to give your opinion on the matter when he found you. You could, having stated your desire not to return, slit your throat to spite him. You've had your warrior's death and nobody expects you to die so nobly twice. Although, personally, I'd prefer you stick around and defy those expectations."
Lofty gingerly lifts himself into a sitting position. "Mr Vagus has no doubt invested considerable time and effort in our resurrection. I am grateful, but I must admit Bouyside has stirred in me a glimmer of suspicion. Why us?" He mulls it over, his thoughts still dulled by sleep. "We are, I suspect, the only folks in the world who would believe that Saint Arden, the man who ended a hundred years of war and brought peace to the land, is a traitor. Likewise we are probably unique in our knowledge of Dehlia's involvement." Lofty turns his attention to their host. "You mean to sponsor our tour of vengeance? Foil your sister's plans? No, direct confrontation would fail." Lofty's expression brightens "Oh, I think I have it! We don't owe him anything, in fact, he has another gift to give. He knows something Bouyside, something that can help us succeed in an otherwise hopeless fight. Am I on the right track Vagus?"
Character Sheets: Page1 Page2 Page3
HP: 35 AC: 20 Saves: Str+2 Dex+0 Con+4 Int+2 Wis+2 Cha+6
ALL
Vagus' face is difficult to read but you detect a slight hint of surprise. "Very astute, Sergeant Lofty. Your suppositions are not entirely off the mark. Let me paint a picture for you all, then, yes? You should know that in the weeks - and it has been weeks - following the disastrous assault on Cionn tSáile, the Fourth Fifths army has collapsed. Its forces are scattered, demoralized, and broken, due in part to the apparent deaths of the Sixth and Seventh Saints. The fog remains confined to the city for the time being, but people fear that it may begin its inexorable spread once again any day now. Meanwhile, strange creatures continue to manifest throughout the continent, causing general terror and mayhem. A world so close to redemption, once again brought to the brink of ruin.
"Now, you obviously know the truth of what transpired during the assault. I might remind you, however, that your last encounter with the manifestation of my sister known as Dehlia and the man known as Arden mortally wounded or incapacitated three of you. Thus, even if you were able to convince anyone of Arden's duplicity, you still lack the strength necessary to impede him. Furthermore, his goals, while not entirely apparent to me, seem to pose a threat to one of your local, lesser gods. Pelor, is it? I can only speculate as to why this entity has drawn Arden's animosity, but I believe that he is searching for whatever Isidore found in the earth below Cionn tSáile in the hopes of using it to his advantage. Most ominously of all, Dehlia is actively working to obtain this object of power and is exploiting Arden's aspirations to her own ends.
"Dehlia cannot be allowed to obtain this object. As evinced by the fog, its very presence on your world has drawn the attention of some rather unique entities that can bring your people nothing but suffering. As such, this entity must be appropriately disposed of; I fear that I alone am capable of removing this force and the threat that it represents from your plane. The issue, however, lies in the fact that I am bound by certain...uh...rules that preclude me from acting in direct opposition to Dehlia. Were she to find discover my machinations, well...it would be suboptimal."
He smiles and extends his hands. "Which is where you all come in. Here you stand, health restored and lives preserved by the grace of my good will. I have several weapons and instruments of not inconsiderable power as well as precious information that you might use to undermine Arden and Dehlia's goals. All I ask in return is that you deliver the object out of Dehlia's grasp into my possession."
Vagus nods enthusiastically, leaning back onto the large table on which HELIOS resides. "A fair exchange, is it not? Weapons, information, and whatever limited aide that I can provide in return for that which Isidore found. I willingly share my leads and resources with you all in return for a contractual agreement that you will surrender Isidore's Folly onto me once you have secured it from the efforts of Arden and Dehlia. These seem like favorable terms, do they not?"
He reaches into his pocket and draws out an elegant quill, dripping with ink. In his left hand, he holds a piece of parchment covered in writing (though you might have sworn his hand was empty mere seconds ago).
"Do we have a deal?"
"No." Lofty shakes his head. "I'll need to lay down a zone of truth and detect magic on that contract if you want to make this official." Calling Pelor a local lesser god set alarm bells off in Lofty's head. "What are you?"
Insight check on his reply 12
Character Sheets: Page1 Page2 Page3
HP: 35 AC: 20 Saves: Str+2 Dex+0 Con+4 Int+2 Wis+2 Cha+6
LOFTY
Vagus' smile grows tighter. "I don't know that you have much in the way of bargaining -" his voice dripping with sarcasm "- friend. There are things at play that go far beyond some squabble with some minor sun god."
He pauses to inhale deeply through his nose, smoothing the ruffled surface of his tunic. As Vagus regains his composure, you realize how gray the world had become as the color comes flooding back. It seems that you had genuinely irritated him for a moment.
"Suffice it to say that I am, for the moment, an ally and your best chance at salvaging your sty of a world." He sighs. "If you feel so strongly, you may peruse the document at your leisure and scrutinize it with any magics that you feel appropriate. I will wait in the corner while you deliberate."
He walks over to the fire and stokes it absentmindedly. He then tends to a cauldron of some viscous substance that smells quite lovely - probably stew.
"You prevaricate. Allies need to trust one another, and we need to know what we're up against. You and your sister, what are you? Where are you from?" The smell of stew makes Lofty's stomach growl, and his eyes keep drifting back to the cauldron despite his best efforts to stay focused.
Character Sheets: Page1 Page2 Page3
HP: 35 AC: 20 Saves: Str+2 Dex+0 Con+4 Int+2 Wis+2 Cha+6
"I will not sign the contract of a man who insults the almighty Pelor. He is the savior of this land, Dehlia is nothing but an obstacle to be overcome in order to full fill the prophecy. Show respect to Pelor or you will get none from me." HELIOS turns his head and mimics spitting on the ground at the man's feet. No saliva is produced but he replicates the sound well enough.
HELIOS scans the room looking for something that can be played as an instrument. He does not like having idle hands when there is business that needs done
Perception check - 6
H.E.L.I.O.S - Warforged Sun Soul Monk
AC - 19
The usually quiet Xantlin, feeling tension in the room rise, attempts to calm the party down and get everyone on the same page. The disrespect of Perlor agitates him, but doesn't cloud his eyes from the greater situation and the potential to learn more.
"Vagus, we are all," Xantlin shoots a glare at Buoyside, "of course extremely grateful to you for bringing us back to health. Having seen what we've seen, I think we all wish to play a part in stopping it. Making you an ally may be our only way to accomplish this, so a deal of this nature seems apt. But you must understand our position, how shocked and horrified and confused we all are, it would be impossible for us to move forward having such a small amount of information, and knowing that it was all right in front of us in this room. I know you have more to tell us, please, we must know what we are up against and what the path forward may bring"
Persuasion roll - 20
Xantlin Pegason (imgur)
33/33 HP
4/4 level 1 spells, 3/3 level 2 spells, 2/2 level 3 spells
AC = 15, Spell attack bonus = 7, spell save DC = 15
Buoyside looks back at Xantlin and puts on an obviously sarcastic and forced smile, his mouth is just visible enough to see him squeezing blood through his fractured teeth. "Yes, wonder boy, bringer...backer...of the dead. Tell us more." He stands with a loud groan and stands half hunched. "But know I don't need your magical weapons, I've got a blade that is..." He pauses as he does the math in his head. "...36 times the length of your pathetic cream chamber and a million times sharper than your mind. and I'd like somebody to put that blade in my hand, as I am unable to see at the moment."
Character Sheet
AC: 16
ALL
Vagus roll his eyes. "'Allies need to trust one another' - hollow platitudes derived from the mercurial morals of mortals. Trust is not a necessary component of our alliance."
HELIOS' assertions seem to only further annoy him. "Empty threats from emptier vessels," he mutters under his voice.
Xantlin's plea, however, seems to resonate with Vagus. He frowns pensively, lost in thought. After what seems like an eternity, he clears his throat and begins to speak.
"This may be hard to hear, but you and your gods have lived a privileged, insular existence for a long time. The object that Isidore discovered was buried here long ago, long before any of your species walked on two legs or could bloviate emptily about your feeble accomplishments. When he attempted to draw from its power, however, Isidore inadvertently opened a door to the outer realms and extended an invitation to the deep, heavy things whose very names would shake the foundations of your sanity. In a sense, your gods, while great and powerful in your eyes, are merely small fish in a very, very small pond. Isidore had accidentally opened a channel, letting the whole, wide ocean pour in. And with the tide came much bigger, more heinous fish, drawn to the scent of blood."
He pauses. "This is not the first time. There are stories of an ancient elf king, his name lost to time, who discovered the same object long before the race of man ever visited this continent. He too attempted to draw on its power, but was much more cautious in his studies than the reckless Isidore. His actions drew the attention of a massive entity that, in its approach to your planet, collided with your moon before crashing into the ocean." He points to the sky. "This is why your moon is shattered and strewn throughout the sky. This is what poisoned your oceans and killed virtually all marine life. This is, ironically, what drove men to abandon their homelands three thousand years ago in search of a home not tainted by this monstrosity's effluence. So began the diaspora of man that first brought them to the shores of Súilleabháin."
Vagus turns to look at Xantlin. "The king realized his mistake quickly and returned the object to its latent state, but the damage was done. This world was forever changed. In a funny way, his actions spelled the end of the elven supremacy on the continent; with the arrival of mankind on Pater Perditas, elves were driven from their homes deep into the forests, their kingdoms ransacked and their legacy sundered. Now, the same thing has happened once again; Isidore, in his naivety, though to harness this object's powers and instead has brought peril to your entire existence."
He stops to stir the stew for a bit. He removes the ladle and blows on the steaming broth before sipping it. It smells of rosemary and basil. He adds a small crystalline powder to the cauldron and continues to stir.
"Dehlia, if that is what she has decided to call herself, is an infinitely small projection of a horrifyingly powerful entity called a 'moment,' of which there are three. She is something fundamental, primal. Entire galaxies are moved in the wake of her bow shock as she moves between realms. She is a god to the gods of your gods. I almost admire your asinine vows to 'destroy' her; you are nothing before her and stand no chance at even inconveniencing her." He stands to pace before you, gesticulating with the ladle as he speaks. Hungry eyes dart back and forth as he swings the spoon about.
"In spite of your utterly bleak prospects, if you were to help me to obtain this object I could remove it from this world. In doing so, I could close the channel and stem the tide of these...intercessory creatures that plague your world. Moreover, I would be able to draw off the attentions of Dehlia."
Vagus stops, his back to you.
"This is my proposal. Help me to obtain the object known as Isidore's Folly. Remand it to my safekeeping and preserve your existence. Refuse, and watch your world be torn to pieces by the void."
He turns to face you. "As to the Sixth Saint's role in this...well. I'm admittedly not certain. This is mere speculation, but I believe that he has already accessed the object's power, or nearly done so, and intends to use it to exact his revenge on Pelor. It seems to me that Dehlia cannot procure the object without his help and has, as such, entered into an arrangement with Arden such that she will aid him in his campaign of destruction with the understanding that he will return Isidore's Folly to her once his bloodlust has been sated."
Without warning, Vagus turns and throws the ladle violently at the wall, where it embeds itself firmly in the wood. Except that the ladle is now a knife, the contract pinned to the wall by its blade.
"Choose now," Vagus says, his voice gravelly and emotionless. "No more questions, no more stalling. Aid me and I will, in turn, aid you - with weapons and information. Fail to do so and watch everything you have made unravel."
Ryloos has been staring at the ground taking all that has been said in and filtering it through her foggy, concussed mind. One thing that catches her interest is the allure of more powerful weapons. Weapons to kill that awful *****, Dehlia. Ryloos has no particular love for the Pelor but has seen first hand his power embodied in the physical world. Learning there are beings far more powerful than Pelor, if Vagus speaks the truth, is a thought Ryloos can barely comprehend.
Ryloos eyes peer at Vagus as he brandishes the ladle dispersing his ideas. She does not trust this man, but she can't shake the the thought of cutting down Arden and his *****, Dehlia, with something stronger than her rapier and daggers.
"If we were to accept your offer, what is the exact nature of these weapons and how could they help us 'inconvenience' Dehlia as you so put it?"
RYLOOS
Vagus sighs and slips back into the vulgar accent that he had adopted on first meeting you. "Goddamn, you lot are thick. What about 'no more questions' do you not understand?" He runs a hand through his hair in exasperation.
He walks to the large table and pulls out a drawer, which he rummages through, muttering all the while under his breath. After a few moments, he withdraws what appears to be a dagger with a very elegant, engraved scabbard.
"This," he starts, "is called Drift. Said to be forged in a capital city of the eastern lands." He unsheathes the weapon, revealing a lovely isosceles-shaped blade with elaborate gilded etchings carved into its blade. "When thrown, its bearer can appear wherever it should travel."
Once again. without a moment's notice, Vagus turns and throws the dagger directly at you. You flinch as the blade passes inches from your face; on reopening your eyes, Vagus is standing behind you, the dagger in hand, seemingly having teleported.
"Also makes a halfway decent weapon. Good for stabbing people in the back." He sheathes the dagger and places it in your hands. "Can only be used a couple of times each day though. Needs moonlight to recharge." He walks back over to the contract and stands, hands on his hips, tapping his foot impatiently.
"what do you have to offer for those of us that do not rely on weapons? My power comes from Pelor himself, and while you disrespect his strength as a God you cannot deny the power he has." HELIOS speaks loudly igniting a ball of sunlight in each hand. He turns and throws both at the wall impacting on either side of the contract. "Show me what you have that can enhance the strength of Pelor, and apologize for speaking so brashly about him and I will sign the contract on the Sergeants command."
Intimidation check (this won't go well) - 9
H.E.L.I.O.S - Warforged Sun Soul Monk
AC - 19
"If you're confused as to why this is all falling apart, allow me to clarify." Lofty totters to his feet and begins to shuffle about the cramped room looking for his things. "The worst debt a mortal can incur is gratitude. You never feel like it's paid in full. If you'd have simply fed us and told us what you know, you would have found us to be stalwart allies. Thankfully you've freed us from such obligations with your boorish attempts at bribing us into servitude. You denigrate our gods and belittle our values while insisting we hand you the fate of our world? You're twice as arrogant as Isidore ever was and if your little history lesson had one thing to teach, it's that arrogance leaves you blind to the unexpected. You didn't expect me to refuse you? I'm not surprised." With that, Lofty walks out.
Character Sheets: Page1 Page2 Page3
HP: 35 AC: 20 Saves: Str+2 Dex+0 Con+4 Int+2 Wis+2 Cha+6
LOFTY ET ALII
You turn to leave, satisfied with the rectitude of your speech. You quickly realize, however, that you had never actually glimpsed an entrance or exit to the room. Your self-assurance quickly fades as you turn a full three hundred and sixty degrees, eyes finding nothing but seamless walls, ceiling, and flooring. Your gaze returns to Vagus.
His face is pure malice and his voice, barely more than a whisper, seethes with barely restrained rage and venom.
"You filth. You sanctimonious louse, drunk off your self-import. I curse you." The words have weight and your knees buckle as if struck by a physical blow. "I will poison the ear of every man, the leaves of every tree, the stones of every wall, the current of every stream against you. You will find no succor. You will find no reprieve. In your time of need, your plaintive cries will fall on empty eaves and closed thresholds. I CURSE YOU." His voice rises in volume. You feel a searing sensation on your forehead, one of blinding pain. Your party members cry out similarly and clutch at their faces as a strange mark burns itself into the flesh and/or metal of their foreheads. "NOW ALL WILL KNOW YOUR PERFIDY. NO CLOTH NOR ARMOR NOR SHADE CAN HIDE YOUR IGNOMINY. I. CURSE. YOU. NOW GO."
The final sentence is nearly shrieked, the pitch deafening. You can barely stand straight. The final words are the thundering winds of a hurricane, and you are blown physically to the ground. You are surprised to find yourselves tumbling down a set of stairs that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Your momentum carries down the steps and out a door that shuts abruptly behind you, sealing off the gale inside the house. Somewhat dazed but otherwise uninjured, you turn to face one another. On each of your foreheads has been burned the following mark.
After examining your brands, you turn to study your environs. You are standing in a small glade in the midst of a lush forest. The floor is carpeted with thick grass and soft moss, and warm sunlight falls in through a gap in the canopy. Nearby, a stream gurgles pleasantly, some placid offshoot of the mighty Ogma. A collection of brilliant blue flowers have bloomed along its path, and insects flit to and from their pollen-laden stamen. Not far off, a small gravel path leads off in between the trees, a series of stone cairns lining its flank and leading you to believe that it is manmade. You turn back to look at Vagus' majestic home only to find that it has vanished utterly. In its place, you find a skeletal structure that was once likely a water mill that was seemingly destroyed in a fire, its stone walls charred and collapsed.
In spite of your rather spiteful parting with Vagus, you cannot help but admire your beautiful surroundings.
RYLOOS
After picking at your painful forehead mark, you are startled by a realization. You quickly check your pockets, a smile coming to your face. You draw out the dagger known as Drift, its gilded scabbard glittering in the sunlight. It seems Vagus may not have taken everything from you. You surreptitiously return the blade to your satchel, shooting furtive glances at your party members.
You all are level six now - hooray! You are also all cursed - bummer.
Buoyside groans as he stands back up, absolutely bewildered. He's still hesitant to remove his face covering, just in case there is some healing element to preserve his handsome visage. He acquiesce's and clears out two spots around his eyes so he can once again see. The mask is now drooping slightly, it almost appears as if Buoyside is crudely wearing another man's bloated face as a mask.
"What the **** just happened?" He looks back at the destroyed home then back to Lofty for a moment before blurting out a laugh. "Captain, I often think you're just a stuck up nerd but god damn, you just offended that dude so hard he had to ******* MOVE." He bends over, slapping his knees. "'Gents, what a ******* knob! Did you figure out the math I did? I said his pecker was only 3 inches, brilliant! He couldn't even figure it out!"
You all may feel uneasy, as this is easily the friendliest this Buoyside has possibly ever been to any of you, you are bonded by a common enemy in the rude, pretentious Vagus. He bends down to pick up his sword before finally taking in the environment.
"Well where to? The cursed walk the earth once again!"
Character Sheet
AC: 16
"Sorry boys, I got a bit carried away." Lofty begins looking through his pack and shoves half of a month old ration into his mouth. "He didn't want to help us, he wanted to help himself. Anyways-" Lofty straightens, taking on an air of command that came more naturally to him lately. "Bouyside, you've still got that grisly little trophy? Helios, can you speak with Pelor? Ask for guidance to the nearest church? We have a resurrection of our own to see to."
Character Sheets: Page1 Page2 Page3
HP: 35 AC: 20 Saves: Str+2 Dex+0 Con+4 Int+2 Wis+2 Cha+6
"I will see what I can do." HELIOS lowers himself to the ground and sits cross legged as if meditating. His entire body starts to give off a faint orangish glow as he focuses on the ki inside him and attempts to reach out to Pelor for guidance.
Religion check? - 5
H.E.L.I.O.S - Warforged Sun Soul Monk
AC - 19
HELIOS
You open yourself to divine inspiration and feel the ethereal currents swirl about you as you feel Pelor's consciousness acknowledge your appeal. In your mind's eye, you leave your body, assuming a bird's eye view of your surroundings. Not far off, you see swirling light coalesce gently around an old, steepled wooden structure in the midst of a small town. You intrinsically know that there is a former temple to Pelor in the village nearby, now abandoned but still marked with residual light.